Polly Wycherley—Bloodhounds

Polly Wycherley’s relationship with the Bloodhounds was that of founder, organizer, and sustaining presence: she turned a shared enthusiasm for detective fiction into a club that met for six years, then watched a real murder threaten the very conversation that had brought its members together. Her connection to the group was not merely nominal. She cultivated its membership through personal attention, arranged its changing meeting places, and made the club’s continuity part of her own weekly life.

From Enthusiast to Founder

Polly traced the beginning of her intense interest in reading mysteries to the twelve years before the conversation with Peter Diamond. While her husband was alive, she said, travel had left her less time to read; later she became increasingly absorbed in the genre. Meeting other enthusiasts at a function showed her that the interest could be shared and organized. From that encounter, she founded the Bloodhounds, converting private reading into a regular social activity.

The club had been meeting since 1989 and had lasted six years. Polly described that period as enjoyable, but her account also makes clear that its survival required care. When asked to recall everyone who had belonged, she dictated a long membership list without pausing, naming Milo Motion and Gilbert Jones among those who had joined. She faltered only when she reached Rupert, prompting Diamond to ask how he had come into the group. Her command of the roster presents the Bloodhounds as a community whose history she had closely retained, not a gathering she attended casually.

A Club Made Sustainable

The Bloodhounds’ early meetings took place in a corner of the Roman Bar at the Francis Hotel. They were informal, and Rupert joined by chance: he came in for a drink, overheard the discussion, and took part. His appetite for argument fitted the group’s interest in books, but his animated manner after a few drinks eventually made him too noisy for the venue. The group was asked to leave.

That disruption changed the club’s setting rather than ending its meetings. The Bloodhounds moved to the crypt of St Michael's Church. The crypt was not licensed, but it stood next door to the Saracen's Head, a location Polly thought suited Rupert. This practical arrangement captures her way of managing the group: she accommodated a difficult member while finding a workable place for everyone else to continue meeting. She called Rupert a mischief maker, yet also recognized his brilliance and considered it in the group’s interests to retain him. Membership, in her view, could include friction without making exclusion the only solution.

Personal Work Behind the Meetings

Polly’s contribution extended beyond choosing a venue or compiling a roster. Diamond observed that the six-year run was mainly due to her, a judgment he said he had heard from several sources. He described her as putting a great deal into the group, and identified the small acts through which she kept its members connected: telephone calls and the occasional cup of coffee. Polly said she enjoyed keeping up with them. The informality of these gestures was part of their importance; the club was maintained through repeated personal contact as well as scheduled discussions.

For Polly, the Bloodhounds were more than a way to pass a Monday evening. Her enjoyment of the members and her sustained encouragement gave the group a social life beyond its shared reading. Her response to its possible collapse therefore concerned more than the loss of a meeting place. She feared that the members would be unable to talk about books once suspicion of a real murder entered the room between them.

Murder and the Club’s Fragile Future

The killing turned the Bloodhounds’ interest in fictional mysteries into an uncomfortable question about real violence. Polly had already canceled the next meeting. She imagined the members looking at one another and wondering who among them could commit an actual murder; under those conditions, ordinary conversation about books would become impossible. Her fear marks the club’s central vulnerability: the same close familiarity that supported its meetings could, under the pressure of a crime, transform the group into a circle of mutual suspicion.

The investigation also brought Polly’s own place in that circle under scrutiny. No one could confirm that she had been at home on the night of the crime. She had watched News at Ten and an old Stewart Granger film, but those activities did not establish an alibi. This does not resolve her involvement; it shows how the investigation altered the meaning of ordinary club membership, placing its founder among people whose movements and relationships required examination. The Bloodhounds had begun as a way for enthusiasts to meet and discuss mysteries. With one meeting canceled and the next uncertain, the real case threatened to undo the trust and conviviality Polly had spent six years building.